


Have Faith

by perictione (leclairage)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Marriage, Ratchet Writes His Own Vows, Religious Themes, Romance, Secret Solenoid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 18:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17249591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leclairage/pseuds/perictione
Summary: Another sleepy rumble emerged from the blanket cocoon as Ratchet said, “Meditate later. Come back to berth.”





	Have Faith

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkDanc3r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDanc3r/gifts).



> Which ending of the Lost Light is this? You decide! But Rung doesn’t get forgotten because I didn’t like that.
> 
> For [Warpedsky](https://www.pillowfort.io/warpedsky), who asked for Lost Light Dratchet in the Secret Solenoid exchange!

“So, as some of you may have noticed, this is a Spectralist ceremony,” Ratchet began, wiping a bit of optic cleanser from his cheek. “I’ve been, uh, trying to meet halfway more often.”

There were some chuckles from the small assembled crowd.

“Unfortunately all this filigree looks much less attractive on me than it does on Drift,” he said, gesturing at his almost-conjunx, who was shaking his head in disagreement.

There was a whistle of approval from in the crowd, and when Ratchet looked Rodimus was giving them two thumbs up. Drift grinned.

Ratchet rolled his eyes. “But I’m going to be doing things my way with the Profession of Devotion. I know it won’t be as elegant or spiritual or heart-breaking as what Drift just said, but it won’t be too blasphemous, I hope…”

 

**Several Years Ago**

“Ngh, w’as happening?” came from within the cocoon Ratchet had made in Drift’s berth. Then another grumble: “...recharge!”

Drift was in the process of trying to untangle himself from the berth covers and from Ratchet. Morning meditation helped him the most when he was able to do it early, before the day began properly, but half the time he woke up Ratchet by mistake.

“Go back to sleep, Ratch. I’m gonna meditate for a while.”

Another sleepy rumble emerged from the blanket cocoon as Ratchet said, “Meditate later. Come back to berth.”

Drift smiled fondly and stroked what he thought was the back of Ratchet’s helm under the blankets. “Nah. I figure you’ll get sick of me and all my ‘hippie woo-woo’ nonsense sooner if I practice where you can see it all the time.” Drift chuckled a bit. “Gotta keep you in love with me as long as I can, Ratch.”

He stood up from the berth at last, but Ratchet chose that moment to make an appearance, rolling over and pulling the berth covers down. It took a few tries. One of the blankets got caught on his chevron and had to be dislodged with Drift’s assistance.

“What in the pit just came out of your vocalizer?” Ratchet asked, sitting up, optics narrowed into slits and voice still staticy with sleep.

“Huh?” Drift said. “I really was trying not to wake you—”

“No. No, no. The slag about me getting sick of you. What was that?” Ratchet was frowning properly now, still resetting his optics as he woke up the rest of the way.

“It was just a joke.”

“It didn’t sound like a joke. Is this what you’re doing when you leave the berth in the mornings? You’re sneaking off to meditate so I won’t find out about it?”

Drift grimaced. “I know you don’t like it. Obviously I’m not going to parade it in front of you—”

“Because you think I’m gonna get sick of you.” Ratchet’s mouth was a thin line. “Do you think I’m going to—what? You think I’m going to run away if I see too much of who you really are?”

Drift started, “Well, I—no, I don’t, it’s just—I know how much you hate it. You’ve tried to change my mind enough times. There’s no easier way to get you into an argument.”

Ratchet worked to get an arm free of the berth covers, then grabbed Drift’s hand and pulled him back down to sit on the berth. He didn’t let go, and squeezed his lover’s hand tight.

“You’re right, Drift. You’re right. I used to think that.” Ratchet winced. “I wanted to change your mind… I was angry and afraid. I don’t know how to describe it. The world was still—is still—bleak and empty and hopeless and it seemed unfair that I was stuck knowing that while you…”

Drift looked at the floor and tried to pull his hand away, but Ratchet wouldn’t let him go.

“No. No, Drift, I—” Ratchet choked off. “Dammit, this is hard for me.” Ratchet rubbed the base of Drift’s wrist absent-mindedly.

Very softly, Ratchet said, “I love you.”

Drift shivered and let his optics shutter closed. His hand shook almost imperceptibly in Ratchet’s grip and he tried to pull away again.

“No, Drift, don’t. I know I’ve already said that. I’m trying to—will you just let me tell you?”

There was a slight nod.

“I’m not looking for someone else, Drift. I want _you.”_

Drift’s optics flickered back on.

“I love everything about you. I love your passion, I love your faith—I love that you _believe_ in things.” Ratchet paused, looking down and stroking over Drift’s palm with his thumb. “I love that you believe _in me.”_

Drift was fully staring at his lover now. He reached for Ratchet’s face, unable to look away, but Ratchet waved him off, laughing. “If that isn’t a leap of faith I don’t know what is. I don’t know why you do, or how I got so damn lucky, but you’re the best damn thing in my whole life.”

Drift lifted Ratchet’s free hand and kissed the back of it reverently.

Ratchet’s smile wobbled a bit, watching him, before he kept speaking. “I don’t want you to change. I don’t _understand_ your faith, and I doubt I ever will, but I love it. I love that about you. You’re all hope and optimism and...it’s beautiful. I am _not,_ because I’m an old cynic, but you have faith in me, too, somehow—” then Ratchet broke off with a cough, looking away again, “—or you’ve said something that made it seem like that was—”

Drift laughed and kissed him.

He moved forward until Ratchet fell back onto the berth, holding Ratchet’s face in his hands and kissing him over and over. When Drift finally pulled away, Ratchet lifted up, trying to chase his lips.

“You’re barely older than me, you cynic,” Drift said, giving in and kissing Ratchet’s lips briefly once more. “But yes.” Drift pulled back until he was sitting up, straddling Ratchet. He took Ratchet’s hand again, and kissed the back of his knuckles. “I do.”

Then Drift pressed his lips soft and lingering against Ratchet’s open palm.

“I have so much faith in you.”

 

**Present Day**

“If I ever _believed_ in anything, it was that the universe was more or less ironic. I just always thought the irony was…that there was no point.” Ratchet smiled. “‘God’ was a therapist. Hell, God was _our_ therapist. How ironic is that?”

The guests who knew Rung’s story murmured with amusement in the audience.

“We go on this big quest, looking for meaning and history and truth—and we sure as hell found it—but the answers were making the trip with us the whole time. I’m starting to think that something out there has one hell of a sense of humor.”

Ratchet turned to Drift and took both his hands and held them.

“I’m still not sure why I joined the quest. I didn’t believe in the visions, or the Matrix, or the Knights… I know I was running from something. From Cybertron? From my own cynicism, maybe?” Ratchet looked down at their joined hands. “From my failures?”

“I knew I was going to fall apart, and just leaving seemed easier than staying.” Ratchet watched his thumb trace the lines of delicate gold paint decorating the inside of Drift’s palms. Drift’s fingers pressed against his wrist comfortingly in return. “But that didn’t even matter, all the business with my hands. I have been alive an extremely long time. I’ve spent most of it helping others, healing others, like I always wanted. But in the end, it all felt empty. And not just because of the war. You changed everything.”

Ratchet grinned. “I went on a quest to find meaning in the universe, and I found you.”

Drift looked up at the ceiling, smiling and biting his lip.

“At one point, I literally went off to find you. And I did.” Ratchet smiled at Drift, eyes soft and open and hopeful. “And then, I really found you. You are so special. Every time we’ve met—every single time, in more than four million years—you’ve surprised me. I never stop being impressed by you.”

“I don’t believe in Spectralism, or the Guiding Hand, or whatever it is that makes a Matrix work.” Ratchet held Drift’s hands up close to his chest, close to his spark. Slowly, he said, “You are the meaning in my life.”

The room, full of friends and loved ones, was very quiet, waiting. Ratchet let go of Drift’s hands in favor of pulling him in close until their faces were nearly touching.

“Drift, I believe in _you.”_

And Drift reached out and kissed his conjunx.

 

_Without love, there is no meaning._

_– Ratchet of Vaporex_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [RHplus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RHplus/works) for encouraging me and spotting a few errors.
> 
> All feedback cherished. [Find me on twitter](http://www.twitter.com/perictione1)!


End file.
